BEDTIME

Learning to Play

WHAT WE HOPEFULLY LEARN IN KINDERGARTEN

I hope that lessons at the train table and on the playground will help Ayeesha get along with others. Sometimes I want her to work things out for herself and then sometimes I know I have to intervene.

There are times when we can't just walk away. When Ayeesha has hurt another child, for example, we always work together to console the child she's wronged and I ask Ayeesha to look directly at the child's face. "You made him feel SAD," I say. "That is not okay. What can you do to help him feel better?"

When Ayeesha has been seriously hurt by another child I first make sure she's okay and then I figure out how to bring up the issue with the child, the child's caregiver, or both. Usually these conflicts are resolved as quickly as they started and I think Ayeesha learns quite a bit from listening to what the adults are saying to each other.

I am occasionally shocked, however, to find that it's the ADULTS on the playground (or around the train table) who have a hard time communicating and getting along. I've heard parents rationalize harmful behavior or deal with the situation by accusing other people's children -- trying to transfer the blame. I think back to the basic lesson we were all supposed to learn years ago in kindergarten: Play well with others. Only four words -- so simple yet so complex -- and definitely worth remembering.

 PRETEND "NO!" PLAY

Ayeesha won't be in kindergarten for a while, but she has a school of sorts evolving at home. Some of her biggest arguments have been with Baby, her stuffed doll, and Bonkers, her stuffed dog.

A few months ago, she started handing toys to Baby and Bonkers and then quickly pulling them away saying, "No!" I realized she was doing what she wasn't allowed to do with other kids.

I pretended I was Baby with a dramatically sad voice, "Oh no. That makes me so sad. Please share your toy with me. Please?" After a couple of weeks, Ayeesha started acting out the whole thing by herself. She'd hand something to Baby, then pull it away, saying "Sad" in a very sad voice, then hand the object back to the baby, take it away again and say, "Sad" in an even more pitiful voice and so on.

Now Ayeesha does the whole routine with a new ending. After she takes the toy away once and says, "So sad," she leaves the toy with Baby or Bonkers, gives them a turn and says "So HAPPY."

I guess Ayeesha has been working through her real-life conflicts in the safety of her pretend play at home. Luckily, Baby and Bonkers don't seem to mind. 

"CLIMB" SCENE INVESTIGATION

The issues that come up around the train table seem magnified on the playground. The added element of outdoor physical play and playground equipment means that in addition to the issues of whose turn it is, there are also safety concerns. I find myself making split second assessments of what happened when and to whom; and I feel like we adults instantly become the detectives, the attorneys, the judges, and the jury. 

Who was there first? But who has been there too long? Who didn't say excuse me, but rather shoved by promptly knocking another child onto her bottom? Who is climbing up the slide so no one else can take a turn going down? Who had the first turn driving the jungle gym car? 

One lawyer in my head says, "That little terror, who is older and should know better, just bumped into Ayeesha, knocked her over and stole her car!" And the defense attorney in my head says, "Yes, but please note that it's just a plastic wheel attached to a jungle gym and it is for all kids to play with" and the prosecuting attorney counters with, "It's still illegal. The action obviously breaks unwritten, but clearly accepted playground rules AND Ayeesha looks really upset AND she'd only been driving for 30 seconds!" And then the judge in my head says, "They're kids. Get over it," and the jury says, "Yeah, we're cold. Let's go drink hot chocolate." 

Ultimately, we find another wheel to steer or decide to try the slide or the swing. We play happily with kids who aren't being rough and then we head home for a tasty lunch or a cup of warm "hot" chocolate. I chalk it up as good experience for both Ayeesha and me -- a lesson in patience, forgiveness and the ability to walk away.

TODDLER RESOLUTIONS

Toddlers don't generally come up with their own New Years resolutions so I have a couple in mind for my daughter Ayeesha. These are only suggestions, of course, but they are really good ideas.

I think Ayeesha should resolve to consistently share, take turns and generally work on being more patient with others while also maintaining a strong sense of self. A simple list for a 21-month-old, right? You think this is too much to ask. Hmmmmm. Well, maybe, but a mom can dream!

One place I've been helping Ayeesha work on these goals (a.k.a Mommy's resolutions for Ayeesha) is at our local bookstore. This store has a train set in the kids' reading area and Ayeesha loves that train. As it turns out, ALL kids adore the train and they especially love the engine.

The engine is the prized temporary possession of every child who stands eagerly around the periphery of the rectangular table and gazes at the tracks winding across bridges and through tunnels. Kids reach out in a sea of tiny arms; clutching helicopters, airplanes, and colorful train cars. Eventually two or more kids reach for the engine. This is when the real games begin.

Conflicts over the single engine seem inevitable, but their resolutions are completely dependent on the personalities of the kids AND the adults involved. It's as if every one of us becomes a coach leaning in over the edge of a hypothetical boxing ring, except not one of the coaches REALLY knows what to do next. The situation changes every visit and so do the players. Every new strategy is an experiment and we just hope and pray to our own god or goddess of train engines that something works with as few tears as possible. It would be kind of hysterical except that I'm not just an observer. I have to play as well!

 

I usually stand near Ayeesha, but not right on top of her; or I sit in one of the chairs a couple of feet away, but I listen to everything. When it seems like a big disagreement is evolving, I'm there by Ayeesha's side to coach her through the discussions about who had what first or who needs the next turn. Sometimes I and the other adults who are "playing along" just look at each other and smile. Maybe we're all amazed at how frustrated our children can get over a tiny engine or rights to pass through a small wooden tunnel first. I try to stop and put myself in Ayeesha's shoes and I notice how passionate she and her peers are. It becomes obvious how much they are learning about themselves and others through their play. Then I understand -- in that particular moment, one small engine making it through one small wooden bridge means everything to a child.